TRANSCRIBED FROM THE LAFAYETTE COUNTY DEMOCRAT OCTOBER 19, 1917 p 4
At Sea, U. S. S. Huron,
Oct. 5. 1917.
Mon Cher Littie:
Have been to France, as you can see, and was not torpedoed. I had a grand time in our seaport city, but did not get leave to see Paris. We were all very glad to see France loom up one foggy afternoon, believe me. But we will be just as glad to see the statue of Liberty again. We are now in the gulf current, not far from the States.
I purchased a few souvenirs in France and am sending you one. I don’t know what it might be called. What few Americans I saw, said that such French wares would be very expensive in America. How do you like my French stationary? I bought a little of everything. I will be sorely disappointed and peeved also if you don’t have two or three letters waiting for me in New York. It has been over a month now since I have heard from home. I don’t even know whether George was drafted in September or not. I hope not. I realize how fortunate I am to be in the Navy after seeing some of the soldiers. They were certainly envious of us on board.
They were as glad to get to France as we were, and we all had great times at night and in evenings. We got liberty from 4 to 10 PM. The French people are very fond of Americans and tried to show us good times. But war has rendered the entire country poverty-stricken. Nearly all that can be gotten to eat is eggs and apples and other fruits. Wine is plentiful, too and it is first class. Nearly every other store is a wine shop.
There are many sights to be seen on the streets. All descriptions of soldiers, sailors, and German prisoners. Almost every young Frenchman to be seen is crippled, and about 80 per cent of the women are in mourning. In spite of these facts they are a gay and brave people, always courteous and neatly dressed. Some of the girls are most beautiful. It is rather odd to see girl Trolly car conductors.
Our fleet of transports was given a rousing welcome the afternoon we docked. There was much shouting and music, while the people threw, fruit on board, and you can imagine how welcome it was to us after being fed on stale stuff for several days. A great mob of German prisoners was marched down to see some of their old ships. You would imagine them to be a weary lot, but it is different. They are away from the war now, and don’t mind working to earn their bread. They consider themselves lucky.
I also saw a French dirigible balloon in the air It was similar to the German Zeppelins. I saw many things too, that I can’t tell on account of their military value. I can’t even tell what port we went to. You can easily see why. This letter will not be censored because I will mail it ashore, but I will try to live up to regulations, anyhow. It has to go thru the mail just the same.
I was seasick the first two days out of New York, but felt fine the remainder of the trip across. Some days at sea are very pleasant and some the opposite, but I would not particularly dislike life at sea, if only somebody I cared for was with me. I amused myself by playing solitaire, watching for Subs, listening to the soldiers and steeling stuff to eat such as sardines, bread, and onions.
What is happening at home now? Are there enough boys left for the girls to have their usual dates? I would like to make another flying trip home soon, but it is impossible. Instead I will content myself with seeing the latest shows and testing out the restaurants until my next trip.
I often wonder who went to college this year from Stamps. Write me a lengthy billet soon and tell me all, and if you have any of that candy left, send me a few pieces. I am presuming all the while in this letter that we reach New York safely. I am not worrying about myself or the ship, but this letter.
Votre ami tout devoue
Frank Baker
NOTES: Frank Baker was born in Lafayette County Arkansas February 4, 1897 and died March 30, 1972 in Baytown, Harris County, Texas.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT
At Sea, U. S. S. Huron,
Oct. 5. 1917.
Mon Cher Littie:
Have been to France, as you can see, and was not torpedoed. I had a grand time in our seaport city, but did not get leave to see Paris. We were all very glad to see France loom up one foggy afternoon, believe me. But we will be just as glad to see the statue of Liberty again. We are now in the gulf current, not far from the States.
I purchased a few souvenirs in France and am sending you one. I don’t know what it might be called. What few Americans I saw, said that such French wares would be very expensive in America. How do you like my French stationary? I bought a little of everything. I will be sorely disappointed and peeved also if you don’t have two or three letters waiting for me in New York. It has been over a month now since I have heard from home. I don’t even know whether George was drafted in September or not. I hope not. I realize how fortunate I am to be in the Navy after seeing some of the soldiers. They were certainly envious of us on board.
They were as glad to get to France as we were, and we all had great times at night and in evenings. We got liberty from 4 to 10 PM. The French people are very fond of Americans and tried to show us good times. But war has rendered the entire country poverty-stricken. Nearly all that can be gotten to eat is eggs and apples and other fruits. Wine is plentiful, too and it is first class. Nearly every other store is a wine shop.
There are many sights to be seen on the streets. All descriptions of soldiers, sailors, and German prisoners. Almost every young Frenchman to be seen is crippled, and about 80 per cent of the women are in mourning. In spite of these facts they are a gay and brave people, always courteous and neatly dressed. Some of the girls are most beautiful. It is rather odd to see girl Trolly car conductors.
Our fleet of transports was given a rousing welcome the afternoon we docked. There was much shouting and music, while the people threw, fruit on board, and you can imagine how welcome it was to us after being fed on stale stuff for several days. A great mob of German prisoners was marched down to see some of their old ships. You would imagine them to be a weary lot, but it is different. They are away from the war now, and don’t mind working to earn their bread. They consider themselves lucky.
I also saw a French dirigible balloon in the air It was similar to the German Zeppelins. I saw many things too, that I can’t tell on account of their military value. I can’t even tell what port we went to. You can easily see why. This letter will not be censored because I will mail it ashore, but I will try to live up to regulations, anyhow. It has to go thru the mail just the same.
I was seasick the first two days out of New York, but felt fine the remainder of the trip across. Some days at sea are very pleasant and some the opposite, but I would not particularly dislike life at sea, if only somebody I cared for was with me. I amused myself by playing solitaire, watching for Subs, listening to the soldiers and steeling stuff to eat such as sardines, bread, and onions.
What is happening at home now? Are there enough boys left for the girls to have their usual dates? I would like to make another flying trip home soon, but it is impossible. Instead I will content myself with seeing the latest shows and testing out the restaurants until my next trip.
I often wonder who went to college this year from Stamps. Write me a lengthy billet soon and tell me all, and if you have any of that candy left, send me a few pieces. I am presuming all the while in this letter that we reach New York safely. I am not worrying about myself or the ship, but this letter.
Votre ami tout devoue
Frank Baker
NOTES: Frank Baker was born in Lafayette County Arkansas February 4, 1897 and died March 30, 1972 in Baytown, Harris County, Texas.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT